


The King of Hearts

by TrulyMightyPotato



Series: Royal Flush [6]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: But do be aware, Implications of rape/non-con, Murder, Nothing is shown, Revenge killing, origin of Orchid tradition of disposing of the Bad Men, origin of one of the spuds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 11:06:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11553903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrulyMightyPotato/pseuds/TrulyMightyPotato
Summary: After a Bad Man breaks the rules of visiting the Orchids, Wade takes matters into his own hands and heads out to make sure this Bad Man never does it again.





	The King of Hearts

March 1919

The Orchids on the Lam, more commonly known as the Orchids, was the only female run and female majority mob in the city of Boston.

There were men in it, men who went by the name of Orchid and worked at the brothels, but not many. They were generally saved for specialty clients, those who knew to ask.

Every Orchid had the opportunity to say no to a client. It was in the rules. It was one of the things told to you when you visited a Greenhouse. It was one of the things Molly made sure to enforce—no Orchid should have to do something she felt unsafe doing or for longer than agreed on, no matter how much money was thrown their way. Some Orchids chose to go ahead with those things, but some did not.

And some men respected that.

And some did not.

Wade dropped a blanket over the shoulders of the young woman sobbing into Molly’s arms, and then retreated to a distance where hopefully the Orchid wouldn’t feel threatened by him. If such a thing were ever possible for her again, after what had happened.

“Wade.” Molly’s voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the order. “Is the water boiling yet?”

Wade dipped his head and went to check on the water, making sure to take his time. This happened enough that he knew the drill—when Molly ordered him out of the room, he stayed out of the room until she called for him. Someone had to help treat the horrific bruises and clean the blood off the Orchid, and it wasn’t going to be him.

“Is it time?” Minx asked softly from her chair in the kitchen.

Wade nodded, going over to the stove and listening to the kettle for a minute. It was a bit hard to hear with the sounds of Minx gathering her supplies onto her tray, but he finally decided the water was plenty hot.

He put the kettle on Minx’s tray, then paused and looked at Minx.

“You’d best make sure the kid doesn’t come downstairs to this.” Minx murmured.

Wade nodded. “I’ll head upstairs to block off her path.” He paused, and a particularly loud sob tore through the air as Minx turned to go into the room.

He glanced up the stairs to where Brycelyn would be sleeping, if she’d managed to sleep through the sound of Minx pulling up in her automobile with the traumatized Orchid in tow. If she saw what was going on—if something like that happened to either of them; or worse, to Molly, even though she didn’t take customers…

Wade turned back to Minx. “Minx.”

Minx glanced over her shoulder, pausing.

“Get me his name and physical description, and where he lives if you can swing it.”

Minx’s eyes narrowed, and she smiled a very nasty smile. And then she went into the living room.

Wade followed through on what he’d promised, and sat on the top of the stairs. After a while, soft shuffling sounded from the bedrooms hall. A glance up proved it to be Brycelyn, looking exhausted.

He opened his arms for her and she took one side of him, leaning on him and letting him hug her.

“Is she going to be okay?” Brycelyn asked, wincing as a cry of pain tore through the house.

“I don’t know.” Wade sighed.

The two of them sat there for a while before he looked at her. “What woke you? Did I forget to close your door?” He forgot a lot of things, honestly, especially whenever something reminded him of the battles he’d fought in, or the men he’d killed because someone decided America needed to get involved with a war on the other side of the world.

“No.” Brycelyn shook her head. “I was thirsty, but I’m not anymore.”

Wade gave Brycelyn’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, but didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much he could say. He didn’t even know her all that well yet. She’d been there when he moved in with Molly. 

It had taken weeks before he’d learned Molly had rescued Brycelyn from a Liguori hit crew, that Molly hadn’t managed to save Brycelyn’s mother, and now they were a family. One of the oddest families out there, but that was okay. Sometimes life was weird. Sometimes you had to make your own family.

It was almost dawn by the time Minx ushered the now-bandaged Orchid out of the house and Molly came to the bottom of the stairs. Brycelyn had fallen asleep on Wade, and he hadn’t dared moved and risk waking her.

Molly looked the teen, and flicked her gaze to the bedrooms. Wade nodded and carefully disengaged from Brycelyn as Molly climbed the stairs. Molly kept Brycelyn from falling down the stairs, then Wade scooped Brycelyn up and took her back to bed.

That done, Molly and Wade went to their own room and laid together in silence for a while (Keeters was quite pleased with the amount of cuddles that were to be had).

“You asked Minx for the name and description of the man that did that.” Molly finally said, clearly tired. “Why?”

“Because otherwise he’ll get away without any consequences, and that’s not right.”

Molly looked over at Wade and raised her eyebrows, but nodded. “The information’s on a paper on the table downstairs. Be careful. I don’t want to lose you.”

Wade kissed her forehead. “I’m not doing anything until we’ve both gotten some sleep. He’s not going anywhere. But I will. I know how not to die when I’m trying to kill someone.”

\-----

Wade dreamed of blood.

He dreamed of blood and screams and the groans of the dying and wounded and the smell of death.

He dreamed of bodies and faces of men he'd fought with, of the time he should have died, of the time one of his friends, his unit, had taken a bullet for him.

He dreamed of rain pouring down and being without shelter and surrounded by the dead and dying, cold and shivering to the point of pain.

He dreamed of warm arms pulling him and one of the other young ones in the unit tight, of Jason sheltering him and Sanders from the worst of the night chill.

He dreamed of the first time he ever took a life.

Wade woke in a cold sweat, jerking into a sitting position, Molly's hand resting on his arm and her soft murmurs filling his ears.

“It's okay. You're not there anymore.” Molly put her head on Wade's shoulder. “You're safe here.”

Safe.

Wade looked around the room. The door was in the same position it always was. Everything was. Keeters was cuddling into his side. The air was cool and quiet. No screams. No gunfire. No dying people.

Safe.

Wade let out a long breath and flopped back down onto the bed.

“How bad was it?” Molly asked quietly.

“Pretty... Pretty bad.” Wade managed, curling an arm around her. “I'm glad you weren't there for it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Wade hesitated, then shook his head. “Not right now, no. We both need our sleep. We'll do it later.”

Molly hesitated, but nodded, her hair tickling Wade's arm. “Alright.”

Wade rolled over and tried to sleep again.

Wade dreamed of blood.

He dreamed of the first time he saw Molly with blood spattered across her face and clothes, a corpse slumping down in front of her.

He dreamed of the time the person across from him had begun choking and gagging on their own blood, spitting it up, and the mysterious woman he’d eventually come to know as Minx shoving the body onto the floor to clean the blood off the table.

He dreamed of mottled bruises, blood brought near the skin, cuts and broken bones; the first times he went with Molly to rescue a woman needing to escape her husband.

He woke with a cat across his face.

Wade groaned and pulled Keeters onto his chest instead, getting a plaintive meow in response.

He was alone in the bed, though, aside from the cat, and the sun shining through the breaks in the blind proved it to be afternoon already. Molly must have gotten up a few hours before, then. Hopefully she hadn’t been woken by Wade making noises or anything in his sleep.

His legs and left arm were tangled in the sheets, he realized after a minute. He must have done a fair amount of thrashing around, then.

Keeters purred softly, and Wade gave him a soft scritch before rolling over and dropping out of bed. It was a drop, seeing as his legs were still tangled in everything, but he wasn’t hurt at all.

Keeters mewled in protest, and Wade just looked at him. “That’s what you get for sitting on me.”

Keeters flicked his tail and walked off, likely to complain to Molly about how Wade was acting.

Wade just slowly disentangled himself and started his morning. Well, it was afternoon by now, but still. He had things he needed to do.

It took all of Wade's willpower to not just take the paper on the table and run with it. He did or it into his pocket so Brycelyn wouldn't find it and worry about what was going on.

The paper burned in his pocket as he worked through his chores. If it had had a body and not a piece of paper, it would have been grabbing him by the ankles and hauling him out the door.

No, Wade needed to plan. He needed to be smart about this. He had to wait until the cover of darkness, figure out the best route to travel to not be seen, figure out the best way to take care of this Bad Man.

So Wade planned. He planned until darkness fell.

And then he grabbed the baseball bat from his closet (he could claim he was on his way home from something if he was stopped, it wasn't too late for that yet) and went to deal out some justice.

Some part of him told him that it wasn't his job to deal justice, that was why the law existed. To protect people when things like this happened.

Except what copper would believe a prostitute about what had happened? Who would believe such a thing was possible, that there were rules to keep things like that from happening? Especially when such things were illegal.

And yet here he was, baseball bat over his shoulder, walking a quiet street to the address Minx had gotten him. The silence of the street was only amplified by the thick clouds rolling in.

He didn't really know how Minx had the address, largely because he wasn't that familiar with the internal workings of the Orchids just yet (or why they were even called that), but he wasn't going to ask either.

The only thing he would be asking was the name of whoever opened the door.

He didn't want to smash in the incorrect face if he could at all help it. Something like that just wouldn't be very considerate.

Besides, it wouldn't solve the problem at hand.

As it turned out, this Bad Man lived on the top floor of his apartment building. Fortunately, nobody was out to notice Wade climbing the creaky stairs with his baseball bat in hand.

Finally, Wade came to a stop at the appropriate door and knocked. Muffled music could be heard on the other side. While he couldn’t recognize the exact song, he was sure he’d heard it being played at one of the Greenhouses he’d visited with Molly recently.

The door opened to reveal someone matching Minx’s description: average height, slightly messy brown-ish hair, and eyes hidden behind large glasses.

“Mr. Baker?” Wade asked simply.

The man nodded. “And you are?”

“Wade Barnes.” Wade casually shifted his grip on his bat, and Baker’s eyes darted to it. “I was sent to follow up on the business you conducted last night.”

Baker blanched. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He edged to the side, as if about to close the door. “You must have the wrong person.”

Wade stopped the door with his foot, wincing slightly at the force used. Clearly, Baker wasn’t going to allow him in without a fight on Wade’s part--not that that was terribly surprising, all things considered.

“Daddy?” a small voice asked, barely audible over the music. “You never came to say goodnight.”

Wade let out a silent groan. Of course there was a child.

“Go back to bed,” Baker’s voice was a bit strained, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Oh! Who’s at the door?”

“No, go back to your room.”

A moment of silence, then a sigh from the other side of the door.

Wade shoved it open, throwing Baker onto the floor of the entry room.

“What--why are you here?!” Baker scrambled away from Wade.

Wade caught up in just a couple steps and grabbed him by the shirtfront, dragging him upright. “I told you. I’m following up on your business last night.”

Baker’s hands went around Wade’s arm. “Let go of me! I have a daughter to take care of!”

“And I’ll make sure she doesn’t end up on the streets.” Wade hauled Baker out of the apartment. It would be messier, more chance of witnesses, but he wasn’t going to let that little girl see this.

“Please!” Baker begged, struggling back. “I’m all she has left! Her mother died in the molasses!”

“Good for her.” Wade dragged him to the railing of the stairs and glanced down. It was a good four story fall down the stairwell. He could even make this look like an accident. “Keeps her from getting treated like the Orchid last night.”

Baker froze just for a second. “She sent you? But- she- she was a weak thing!”

Wade growled and shoved Baker up against the railing, the wood cracking and creaking on impact. “Madame Foxglove sends her regards.”

With that, he tipped Baker over the edge and let gravity do the rest of the job.

Baker’s screech echoed throughout the hall before coming to an abrupt stop.

Wade turned and walked back to the doorway, picking up his bat from where he’d dropped it dragging Baker to the stairs, even as doors to other apartments began to open and residents look to see what the noise was.

“Daddy?” that same small voice asked again.

Wade looked up to see a young girl, no older than seven or so, staring at him with wide eyes.

“He fell down the stairs.” Wade said by way of explanation.

She darted to the top of the stairs, only to kick and scream when Wade scooped her up.

“You don’t want to see it,” Wade assured.

“DADDY!” she shrieked.

Wade winced at the volume.

Half of the neighbors here had closed their doors already, and only one of them had actually come to investigate things. The rest were standing hesitantly in their doorways.

“Did-” the neighbor glanced down the stairwell, wincing, “Did he fall?”

“He was leaning too hard on the railing, I guess.” Wade lied.

The neighbor paled, but nodded. “I’ll- I’ll call someone to take care of the body. I can’t take Betty in, I don’t have the room, but-”

“I’ll make sure she’s safe.” Wade promised. He wasn’t going to take the girl home permanently--Betty, her name was?--but he wasn’t going to leave her to the orphan train.

Betty had collapsed into a sobbing mess in Wade’s arms, and he carefully took her back inside and set her on a chair. After a minute, the neighbor followed.

“I don’t think she should stay here, not after what happened.” Wade said. “Do you know where her coat could be? It was cloudy and I don’t want her getting wet if it’s raining.”

“There should be a closet near the door,” came the response.

Wade walked over, only to have a hand land on his arm.

He glanced over in surprise. Had they seen what really happened?

“It’s probably best if she never comes back here.” the neighbor sighed. “She’s seen too much in these walls already.”

Wade nodded, sliding the door to the closet open. Sure enough, there was a small coat there. “I’ll make sure she stays safe.”

“Thank you.” The neighbor returned to the other room. 

When Wade went to get Betty, she was sobbing in the neighbor’s arms.

“Come on, it’s time to go.” The neighbor urged Betty to her feet. “You’ll be okay.”

Betty wiped her nose on the back of her hand, then took the coat Wade offered. Tears still streamed down her face as she pulled it on and buttoned it up.

Wade scooped her up, murmuring reassuring things to her as she buried her head in his shoulder, then picked up his bat with the other hand. A startled gasp tore out of the neighbor, but Wade started down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Rain was pittering softly as Wade stepped into the streets, Betty still in his arms and still sobbing.

It took several blocks before she finally lifted her head. “I can walk.”

Wade set her down.

She wiped her nose again before staring up at him. “You’re really tall.”

Wade nodded. “I get told that a lot.”

She took a huge, hiccuping breath, then stuck her hands in her pockets. “I don’t want to go with you. I don’t know you.”

“You can’t go off alone.” Wade pointed out.

In response, she turned and darted down an alley.

Wade blinked, then took off after her. “Hey!”

He was fast, but she was faster, and significantly more nimble. He chased her through dozens of streets and alleys, though she got harder and harder to see as time went on.

Finally, he came to a stop. He had no idea where she went from here.

A soft Irish lilt caught the edge of his hearing, and Wade started backing up. He couldn’t stay here. It was after dark and Irish territory. That was just asking for trouble.

Whispering an apology to the neighbor, Wade retreated and headed home.

Hopefully next time this happened, no children would be involved. Because he was sure he would need to dispose of Bad Men again.


End file.
